Sleepless in Stark Tower
by windscryer
Summary: It's been a busy week and neither Steve nor Tony can seem to shut off their brains and get to sleep. Domestic fluff ensues. [Steve/Tony] [Superhusbands]


Disclaimer: Steve and Tony belong to each other. (And Stan Lee. But he's not in this fic. Not even a cameo. That would be awkward.)

* * *

Steve laid in bed, his eyes locked on the ceiling lit dimly by the city lights outside their window. Tony was half-draped over him, head resting on his chest, arc reactor poking into Steve's side, but not uncomfortably so.

"God, I'm so tired I can't even sleep," Tony mumbled, then turned his head over so he could look Steve in the eye. "How did the thing with Fury go?"

Steve snorted. "About how it always goes," he said dryly into the dark. He reached up with the hand not pinned under Tony's warm weight and scraped it over his face, wincing at the feel of the three-day beard he had unintentionally started. The last three days had just been so... _busy_.

Tony was right, it had been too much, and now it was too hard to sleep, even though he was exhausted.

Not even the super-serum could keep up with all of it, which meant Tony had to be even more tired. How he was still awake was beyond Steve.

Tony grunted and shifted so his hand that had been at Steve's side wriggled underneath him to splay across his back and press in an approximation of a hug.

"Sorry," he said sincerely.

Steve sighed and let his hand come down on Tony's shoulder, squeezing it. When Tony winced he said, "Is that still bothering you?"

Tony huffed a laugh, the warmth of his breath seeping into Steve's tee. "Not all of us can heal from a wrenched shoulder in two days, my dear super soldier."

Steve grimaced and started to pull away, but Tony reached up and caught his hand. "No. Like that there. Feels good."

Steve smiled crookedly and set his hand back down, tracing gentle circles over Tony's shoulder and eventually onto his back.

A contented hum vibrated through Tony's chest and into Steve's.

"How did the buyout of Takahashi go?"

"Good. They drank lots of sake and I made lots of money. Win-win situation."

Steve was relieved to hear that there was nothing regretful in Tony's tone. Reducing his alcohol consumption to a level that Bruce was satisfied with hadn't been easy, but Tony seemed to be taking it well, all things considered. He'd said that he preferred to keep his memories of what he did each evening these days, but Steve knew it hadn't been quite so easy as that.

Which of course Tony had figured out and then set about _proving_ his point.

Steve had very much enjoyed being discredited. Repeatedly.

Besides, now that they were in the running for a spot in the study to see if it was possible to conceive a child using DNA from two adults regardless of their gender, Tony had been the one to start the ball rolling on making himself the kind of parent his father _hadn't_ been.

Thinking of the doctor's appointment next week where they would be evaluated for the last time made an uneasy knot curl in Steve's stomach. What if the serum had done something, _changed_ something, and he couldn't... God, Tony would be heartbroken.

They'd never counted on having children, not unless they could somehow convince some social worker that their home, the target of many an attack, was a safe place for a child to be adopted into, but then the petite Dr. Rosenbaum had entered Tony's office one day and told him she needed a million dollars to make him a billion more and he had been sold.

Steve was pretty sure that _Tony_ had been surprised by his own enthusiasm, and for the possibilities for them personally, not just the business side of it.

Once Tony had assured him that neither of them would be required to undergo any kind of radical surgery to carry the baby, that his own StarkMed Ex-Utero Incubator could be used from conception to birth, he'd been cautiously hopeful.

Now it was way beyond cautious, and almost certainly part of the reason neither of them had been sleeping well lately.

Even this week's seeming rush to ruin New York by the most dedicated supervillains the world had to offer was not enough to knock them out now.

Tony sucked in a deep breath, rising up on Steve's chest, then let it out in a gusty sigh. He moved his free hand to the spot below his chin when he propped his head upright, his eyes glittering in the dark.

"So, how about them Dodgers?"

Steve couldn't help the laugh startled out of him. "I hear they're going for the pennant this year."

"It's being back home in Brooklyn. Way less smog than out in LA. They can finally breathe as they run around the bases."

Steve laughed again, Tony's head bobbing up and down with the motion, his grin a white curve in the dark.

"Did I thank you for that yet?" Steve asked, using his hand on Tony's back to urge him up to where he could be properly kissed.

"Mmm," Tony hummed. "I don't think so, but the girl at the store said I was supposed to get you a diamond for our ten year anniversary so..." He grinned widely and shrugged one shoulder, then closed the distance between them.

Steve took full advantage of his strength to keep Tony there while he enjoyed stealing his husband's breath.

When Tony's insistent attempts to retreat finally got to the point of sincerity, Steve released him and Tony gasped and panted for air, then collapsed on Steve's chest, his hair tickling Steve's chin.

"You're welcome," he said when he could speak, prompting another chuckle from Steve.

"Clint said to tell you he expects season tickets. Good ones."

"I know, he told me the same thing. I told him he can buy his own goddamned tickets. S.H.I.E.L.D. pays him enough."

"Tony," Steve said, gently reproving.

Tony sighed in response to the tone and rolled over. "Oh fine. I'll tell him tomorrow that his name is on the access list for our box." He turned back enough and pointed a finger. "But only when _we're_ not using it. I intend to score a couple of my own bases in that box and I do not need the team voyeur critiquing my performance."

Steve rolled his eyes, but, well, he couldn't exactly argue against this plan. Or at least, he didn't _want_ to.

"I'm sure we can work something out," Steve said placatingly with a pat of his hand on Tony's stomach.

Tony giggled and twitched under his hand and Steve grinned and brushed just the tips of his fingers over Tony's cotton-clad abs, another giggle and, this time, a curl of the muscles away from the sensation his reward.

"Oh, that is it!" Tony said and rolled over, attacking Steve's side with his own fingers.

Steve just grinned and let him, thanking God and Dr. Erskine that the serum not only protected him from injury, alcohol, and aging, but his husband's wandering hands. He had no idea why, or if it was even intended, but it was true: he was no longer ticklish.

A fact Tony well knew, but didn't quite believe, even after all this time.

Steve grabbed the hand, pinned it to his side, and used the other to flip them over so he was on top now and Tony was the one pressed into the mattress.

"Oh, you cheater," he breathed, trying to free his hand. "Goddamm _cheater_!"

"Language, Tony," Steve warned and then used his free hand to resume his attack.

Tony writhed and bucked and laughed until he was breathless, pleading for mercy, for pity, for goddamn fairness in the universe, but Steve didn't let him go until Tony had tears of mirth trailing down the sides of his face, filling his laugh lines like canyons in a flash flood.

Steve bent and cut off the last few giggles with his own lips, keeping it up until Tony started to go boneless beneath him. Then he did let go of Tony's hand, smiling as it immediately slid up his side and came to rest on the small of his back.

Not wanting to literally leave his husband breathless from being smushed under his weight, Steve shifted to his side and pulled Tony along with him until they were face to face, both of their heads on Tony's pillow.

"Fucking cheater," Tony said one last time, then gave up words in favor of more kisses.

Steve might have been interested in taking it further, especially when Tony's hand drifted down to his ass, but he could feel Tony's strength ebbing, the kisses growing more and more soft until they were just gentle presses of lips together.

Tony ducked his head unexpectedly, curling into Steve's chest and said, quietly, into the space between them, "Love you."

Even ten years had not made it easier for those words to come out, Tony preferring to show how he felt with—usually grandiose—gestures. Steve didn't mind.

Well, he minded when Tony was ridiculous in his displays, like, say, buying a baseball team just to move it across the country to a city that really didn't need it anymore.

But he didn't mind that Tony didn't often say it with words, how he felt. Steve never doubted that it was true either way.

He wrapped his arm around Tony's shoulders, pulling him closer and wrapping himself around the other man, burying his lips in the fluffy, unruly hair on the crown of Tony's head. "I love you, too."

Something in Steve's chest fluttered like a broken bird's wing at the way Tony's muscles relaxed at that, like he hadn't been expecting it.

But it didn't surprise him, even if it he felt the pang of sorrow keenly.

Tony had had too many years before Steve of not hearing those words for the idea that he was not loved, but tolerated to be so quickly banished. Steve was determined and patient, though, and he would keep saying them until Tony believed it as unwaveringly as Steve did.

It occurred to Steve a moment later that Tony's breathing had steadied and deepened, and he pulled back just far enough to check that, yes, Tony was asleep.

_Finally,_ Steve thought, letting his own eyes drift shut. He tightened his grip on this man whom he loved so deeply and truly, and then with a final sigh, followed Tony into slumber.

* * *

~fin~


End file.
